When Lights Go Down
by Dear. Dark. Destiny
Summary: Lying with half her body on the sidewalks and half her body on the grass was a woman curled up in the fetal position, her back facing the road, shivering violently, and completely naked...something strange happens when Dean goes for a drive and finds something mysterious on the road. DeanxOther story. Romance. T for now, might change to M for safety. Updates weekly.
1. Journey

**A/N:**

**Hello! It has been a very long time since I have updated or written anything, but I feel that it is time to start again. I have become part of a lot of fandoms so you should be seeing more diversity. I hope you enjoy this story!**

**Disclaimer: As much as I would like to say that I wrote Supernatural, I did not. So sorry :/**

**Without further ado...**

"When the lights/ go down/ in the ci-tay. And the sun/ shines on the bay. Oh I hope to be the-ye-ye-yare/ in that ci-tay." Dean sang along to the radio in a comical, off-key falsetto as he cruised down the dark, empty road. He had realized that driving at two in the morning in pelting, cold rain was not the most hopping time of the day; in fact, he found it usually seemed to be the quietest. For this reason, Dean enjoyed it the most; _especially_ when it was raining.

Dean was only out for a drive to enjoy the quiet. He loved Sam, but he also loved the quality time he (very rarely) got to himself. One quick drive in his beloved Impala, then it was straight back to the motel where Sam would be soundlessly sleeping, he told himself.

Journey was not his favorite band; in fact, it probably did not even make it onto his list of _good_ bands, but ever so often, when the mood and setting were just right, he could rock out to a few of their songs. Tonight was one of those nights, thought he as he continued his drive down the long stretch of road, using his left hand to sort of dance and pump along with the music (another thing he felt he could only do on his own, but unadmittedly quite enjoyed).

Suddenly, Dean slammed on the breaks after seeing something pale and almost white on the side of the road where, up to that point, had been only littered with shades of dark green and black where the grass was, and dark grey where the concrete was.

Dean shifted to reverse and drove back to where the figure had been. At first he had thought that it was just a figment of his imagination, what with the rain pouring down on his front windshield and the heat in the car mixing with the freezing temperatures outside, but after his double take, he was sure that something was there.

Lying with half her body on the sidewalks and half her body on the grass was a woman curled up in the fetal position, her back facing the road, shivering violently, and completely naked. Her dark, dripping, brunette locks were very prominent against her almost-white back. Bruises of different shades of purples, greens, and blacks decorated her back in a way that also contrasted the fair color of her skin.

Without a second thought about the rain or his other surroundings, Dean shifted the gears of his car to park, got out and started to take off his leather jacket.

"_All- the lonely- people. Where do- they all come- from? Eleanor-Rigby…na- na- na- lives-in a dream." _Dean heard her frail voice sing (seeming more like talking on pitch), her words detached and almost a staccato.

Wrapping the woman up in his leather jacket to cover her as best as he could (because as much as he admired an attractive woman's anatomical physique, he felt that this was not the appropriate time to look), Dean scooped her up in his arms so that her face was now angled towards his and began to take her back to the Impala. The girl's eyes were bloodshot and puffy and her lips were the color of sickly plums.

"It's cold. It's so cold and it hurts so much. Is it raining?" the girl breathed, her words slurred. Dean winced. The purple bruises that had been littered across her back were also all over her face, neck, and chest area.

"Yeah. Yeah it is." Dean answered in hushed tones—more to himself than to the girl for she probably could not hear him anyway.

Dean opened the back doors of his vehicle and, as gingerly as he could, set the shivering girl on the back seat, buckling the middle buckle over her so that she would not fall off, or hopefully even shift around.

He stood out in the rain for some time—just thinking about this beautiful, yet broken and delirious creature he had found—before he could make himself get into the car. Turning on the car's heat to as high as it would go, Dean began his drive back to Sam at the motel.

**Hope you enjoyed it! Please review! I would appreciate it greatly. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Let me know if the characters are ooc, let me know if I've made grammar mistakes or if things sound unbelievable and awkward. Thanks!**

**Happy writings**

**Caroline**


	2. Eleanor Rigby

**A/N**

**Hello my dear, lovely people! So I was trying to get this chapter in on Friday, but I was not able to get it beta'd till today, so here it is! But remember, I stayed true to my word. It is still this week, so I'm still trying to post chapters once a week.**

**I got a review asking me what season this was in. I've decided that it is in season 4ish. Ruby is probably not going to be in this, and if Castiel is in this, it is brief, so it's not far into season 4, but I wanted to be after Dean got back from hell.**

**Disclaimer: I didn't make supernatural…if I had, it would be really horrible.**

**Please read, then review. I don't mean to be picky, but how will I know what you think/like if you don't tell me? **

**Enjoy!**

"Dean? What the hell? Where've you been?" a groggy and half-awake Sam asked, propping his upper torso up from the bed on his elbow, and rubbing his eyes.

"I-uh…went out for a drive," Dean replied, preparing his words "and Sammy…you should probably come out to see this." Dean cleared his throat and averted his downtrodden eyes from Sam's confused ones.

Sam lifted himself completely from the tacky-patterned, motel bed. He turned his body so that his bare feet were touching the floor, his back slouched, arms stretched, hands gripping the corner of the bed, and finally, he reluctantly got up.

The two brothers made their way out of their motel room and into the 3:30am, rainy darkness. Dean made a 'stop' hand motion to Sam so that Sam would stay in the door frame so as not to get wet—which was a lost cause, since the icy, cutting winds were spraying the giant man anyway—while Dean went to get the mumbling, incoherent girl from his car.

After he had retrieved her in his arms in the same way he had rescued her, he re-adjusted his jacket that covered her so that she would not be so exposed to his brother, then Dean brought her to Sam.

"What the hell." Sam repeated, a bit more under his breath, more in astonishment to himself, than it was a question for Dean.

"I don't know man, I found her on the road. I don't know what's going on…I don't even think _she_ knows exactly what's going on." Dean brought her inside and set her on his bed, then covered her with the paisley patterned comforter.

"When I found her she was singing a freakin' Beatles song, and the whole way back here she mumbled things like: 'It's at seven. I wouldn't lie to you about this,' and other things that don't make any sense. Dammit, Sammy, she's so beaten up. Should we take her to the ER? I mean, this could be something so much bigger than that." Dean said in hushed, articulated tones, obviously very serious and genuinely worried for the girl.

Sam furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. Unlike his brother, Sam had a tendency to think a while before inputting his opinion, while Dean preferred to "shoot first, ask questions later."

After half a minute of contemplation, Sam spoke. "She needs to go to the hospital, Dean. You're right, this could be _our thing_, but _we_ can't help her out when she's half dead.

"We'll figure something out. I mean we'll say— we'll say that she's our sister, or something, so that when she's better, we can figure out what's going on." In right mind, Sam had a knack for helping his brother understand reason (though it did not always work).

"Then let's get her to the hospital." Dean said decidedly.

He started heading towards the door, but abruptly stopped in his tracks as a realization struck him. "Do we, by chance, have any girl clothes that she could wear? I mean they're gonna be suspicious…"

Sam immediately went to his duffle and pulled items of clothing out piece by piece that turned out to be a full, female outfit. Dean looked at his brother with a sort of incredulous but smug smile.

Sam sighed, exasperated. "You've been gone for a while, Dean; I hope you know I've had sex with women during that lapse of time. Plus," he said with a pause, "they're too small for me anyway."

Dean shook his head, got back into serious mode, and then took the clothes from Sam. Sam turned away as Dean dressed the girl as best he could without looking. Seeing her so vulnerable and naked like that still felt so wrong to him.

The girl was still in a daze as he put the slightly dirty jeans and t-shirt on her, but she started to sing Eleanor Rigby again, a bit louder than she had before, however the words were still partially wrong.

Dean re-wrapped his jacket around her and carried her back out into the cold where the rain soaked her once again. Sam followed closely behind. The brothers placed her in the backseat of the Impala and headed towards the nearest hospital in Henderson, North Carolina.

The boys did not talk during the whole duration in the car. They did not try to get their stories straight before bringing the girl in—they were better at improvisation anyway. They did not talk about the state of the girl, and they did not dare talk about Dean's "time away." The only sound that cut through the silence in the car was the soft, confused mumbling from the girl in the backseat.

It took a grand total of twelve minutes and forty-three seconds to get to the hospital; Sam had counted. Once they parked, Sam got out of the car first to carry the girl in. Agreeing whole-heartedly, Dean did not argue with this decision.

The boys took her in, immediately going into acting mode.

"Hello? Excuse me, I need help! My sister, she's—something's happened to her." Sam called out urgently, his eyebrows knitted, worry clearly displayed on his features. "She's so cold, and I don't know what to do. Please help! Please." Dean followed closely behind.

"Calm down sir, calm down," the lady at the front desk of the ER said, attempting to appease Sam's nervous shouts, then she spoke into the little radio she had pinned to her lapel, "I need a gurney in here stat. Woman seemingly early 20s, mumbling and incoherent."

She turned back to Sam. "What's her name, son?"

"E-Eleanor. Her name's Eleanor Rigby. I am Keaton Rigby and this is my brother Paul Rigby. She had been gone for a while, so we went out to look for her, and we found her on the road out in the rain." Sam rambled, not breaking character even when having to come up the names.

Finally, the gurney was wheeled in by two sharp-featured men in white uniforms. Sam placed 'Eleanor' on the gurney and allowed the men to take her to the back.

After she had left, the woman turned to Dean and asked: "Eleanor Rigby? Like the Beatles song?"

"Our father was a big fan. His last name was Rigby. It sort of fit perfectly." Dean said with an almost emotionless mask so as to improv more believably.

"Alrighty then. Well, Paul, Keaton, please sit right down there and wait. The Doctor will be out soon enough." The nurse replied, pointing to the arguably clean and plastic coated, straight-backed chairs.

**Alright! So there we go! This chapter is done! I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought. Constructive criticism is a lovely and wonderful thing that I feed off of when I write. Please don't let me starve 3**

**Happy writings**

**Caroline**


	3. Plastic Cup

**A/N**

**Hello everyone! Long time no see! Sorry for the extremely long wait. School has been taking over my life and I haven't had a lick of time for writing. But I'm getting back into swing of things and I hope to have the next chapter out by next week! **

**Please review after you read. Tell me know what I'm doing wrong…or right. I really need your feedback. I really appreciate it when my readers tell me what they think.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural nor the characters…ooh baby but I wish I did…mmm…**

**Enjoy!**

"W—w—wait—wait a minute! Where are they taking her? Can't we go with her?" Dean cried, feigning distress.

"Sir, calm down. No, you cannot. You could distract the medics. She needs _immediate medical attention._" The nurse spoke slowly in a borderline condescending manor to the almost-thirty-year-old man.

The brothers sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. Every so often, Dean would get up to stretch his legs and pace around a bit, and Sam would get annoyed and tell him to sit back down. For almost two hours, this cycle went on. It was not that they were antsy, they just did not enjoy being in one confined place for so long because it made them feel vulnerable.

At some point toward the end of the two hours, Sam went to the bathroom to relieve himself and get a little change in scenery, and while he was in there, the doctor came out.

"Paul and Keaton Rigby?" the Doctor called out to the almost empty waiting room, causing Dean to perk his head up. Dean then lifted himself from the chair.

"Is she alright, Doc?" Dean asked, sincerely worried.

"Where is your brother?" the Doctor counter-asked, ignoring Dean's question while suspiciously combing his eyes around the room for the tall man.

"He's in the bathroom. _Is. She. All. Right?_" Dean asked once more, becoming very serious all of a sudden, furrowing his brow and deepening his voice.

The doctor sighed and rubbed his forehead with the hand that was not holding a clipboard.

"She's—she's got two broken ribs, multiple lacerations and bruises, and the bone in her left wrist is almost completely broken, and…when we found all of these things that had obviously been done by someone's hands…we decided to look a bit deeper," he paused to wipe sweat off of his brow, and rub his temple, "she…we found three different people's DNA on the inner lining of her vagina…not including her own. Mr. Rigby, it has been almost ripped through." He paused to allow that to sink in. Dean's stick straight posture slackened to a slump. "Mr. Rigby, do you mind if we check you and your brother's DNA?"

Dean was dumbfounded. "You think…you think that _we_ would do this to her? _Our own sister_?!" he cautioned, his face contorting into equal parts of disgust and disbelief with a building dash of outrage. "She's our _family_ dammit!"

"I know this must seem strange and unbelievable to you that anyone could ever do something so nasty to…anyone—especially someone with the same genes as you—but it has happened, and we have to be sure. No one is accusing you of anything, Mr. Rigby." The doctor replied calmly, every word collected and carefully placed.

Dean's brow was still furrowed in a mix of anger and disbelief as Sam walked over to Dean and the doctor, slowly furrowing his own brow in confusion at his brother's worrying expression.

"What's going on?" Sam asked cautiously.

"They think _we_ did this to her!" Dean hastily replied, whipping his hand back towards the doctor.

Sam's expression became identical to Dean's. "Why the hell would we do this to our own _sister_?" Sam shouted, managing to contort his face into an expression one might find on a frustrated puppy.

"We don't necessarily _think_ you did anything. We have to make sure. There are some sick and twisted people in this world, Mr. Rigby." The doctor returned, eyes turned down toward the floor, remaining calm in hopes that the men in front of him would remain calm as well.

"Yeah we get that! But we are _not_ those sick and twisted people, god dammit!" Dean growled, legitimately becoming furious at the thought that _he _could have raped his own fake sister.

"It is a necessary precaution!" the doctor shouted back, still much tamer than the wild man in front of him.

Dean looked about ready to pounce on the poor physician; so naturally, Sam, being the most level-headed one out of the two, stopped his brother by calmly stepping in front and holding his arm out as a sort of barrier.

"De—Paul. It's okay. It's not preferable, but it isn't like we've got something to hide," he paused and turned his attention to the slightly surprised yet relieved doctor, "we'll do the tests, though they won't do you much good. We aren't the culprits."

Dean nodded and regained composure, breathing in and out slowly a few times to cool his head.

"Please—umm—please follow me."

The doctor led the two into a small, rectangular room that was divided by a worn, yellow curtain, one bed on either side (not _nearly _long enough for Sam or even Dean for that matter).

"We're going to have to take a sample of your semen. Here are your cups and I will be back in about thirty minutes. If you do not feel comfortable in this room, there is a bathroom down the hall." The doctor spoke hastily, not allowing Dean and his raising eyebrow and disgusted look to talk. As soon as he said it and handed the men their complimentary sample cups, he propelled his tiny body out of the room.

Dean looked at Sam with a slightly chagrined but also shamefaced expression for the fact that his brother knew what he was about to have to do, speechless.

Sam gave a slight chuckle, "Dean, it isn't that bad. I've had to do this before. They don't need a lot. It isn't a big deal."

Sam slapped Dean on the back and exited the room, heading towards where the doctor had said the bathrooms were.

"If it's so easy then why—why are you going down there?" Dean shouted after him, poking his head out of the doorway.

Sam turned around, walking backwards now, and chuckled once more, "I want you to have your privacy, Dean. Plus, there are _magazines_ in the men's bathrooms—perhaps with an _oriental flair_… Good luck!" and with that, he disappeared into the overly decorated bathroom.

Dean pondered over Sam's words, and quickly as he could, raced to the other men's bathroom, cup in hand.

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I wanted to bring some light-heartedness into the mix of all the trauma. So this chapter was sort of traumatic comedy? Maybe? No? Okay. Tell me what you thought by reviewing in that little box there. It only takes all of 2 minutes at the most. **

**Happy writings,**

**Caroline**


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